What Consent really means...

A Personal Note

You might have noticed that I’m offering less and less access to me in submissive roles of power‑exchange dynamics.

That choice didn’t come from disinterest, fear of intimacy, or a desire to withhold. It came from years and years of boundary pushing, of being touched, tested, or  my body taken for granted without being asked first. After a while, those types of touches become icky and make me hate myself. Allowing others to touch me in these ways have made me feel like i disrespected myself. 
And it sucks cause i love being nasty. Let's be clear, it's not being a submissive, or the acts i do as a submissive that i find icky. It's the lack of communication, the doing without asking.

What I’ve learned, again and again, is that many people genuinely believe they understand consent because they know the phrase “no means no.” And yes... when someone says no, it should always be respected. DUH.

But consent doesn’t start at no. Consent happens before anything takes place.

It should be enthusiastic, informed, ongoing, and rooted in disclosure. All actions, intentions, desires, and limits should be on the table before intimacy begins not revealed mid‑moment when vulnerability is already in play.

There’s a persistent myth that talking about consent kills the magic. In my experience, the opposite is true.

Clear communication doesn’t take the magic away. It creates the conditions for magic to unfold. It allows people to relax, to open, to want more, and to explore further because they feel safe doing so.

In the last few weeks, after working with multiple new individuals, having boundaries crossed something became painfully clear, almost like a neon sign:

There are two very different models of consent being taught. 

Mainstream Consent: “Yes Until You Say No”

In everyday dating and sexual culture, consent is frequently implied rather than discussed. Silence, body language, or lack of resistance are often interpreted as agreement. The unspoken rule tends to be:

Everything is allowed unless someone actively objects.

This model puts the burden on the person experiencing discomfort to interrupt the moment, risk awkwardness, or potentially face consequences for speaking up. It also assumes everyone is able to speak up when a boundary was crossed. When often boundary crossing stuns you.

The result? Misunderstandings at best, and harm at worst.

Kink Consent: “No Until There’s a Yes”

Kink culture flips this logic entirely. Nothing is assumed. Nothing is automatic. Nothing happens without conversation.

In kink, consent is:

• Explicit clearly stated, not inferred

• Informed  based on full knowledge of what is being agreed to

• Enthusiastic wanted, not tolerated

• Ongoing  revocable at any time

Instead of pushing forward and waiting for resistance, kink asks:

What do you want? What do you not want? What are your limits?

This approach creates space for clarity, trust, and agency , even (and especially) in situations that involve power exchange, vulnerability, or intense sensation. Research shows that BDSM communities have strong norms around consent negotiation and communication, and that enthusiasm and negotiation are central to safety practices like safewords and explicit limits. PubMed+1

The Hidden Cost of Defensive Consent

When consent is treated as something you withdraw after a boundary is crossed, the emotional and physical toll is enormous.

Having to suddenly play defense with your body once someone has already done something intrusive is trauma‑inducing. It creates emotional labor that should never have existed in the first place. The labor of managing another person’s reactions, your own fear, and the fallout of having to say no after harm has already begun.

Resentment builds. Frustration builds. And often, self‑blame creeps in, even though none of it should belong to the person whose boundary was crossed.

It should have been no to begin with.

And if someone wants a yes, they should ask before doing.

Assuming access to someone’s body and placing the burden on them to stop you is profoundly intrusive. Taking for granted that a person will say no if they’re uncomfortable ignores how power, fear, and social conditioning actually work.

The Reality of Saying No and Why Withholding Information Is Manipulative

We need to be far more honest about what intimacy actually looks like for women.

Being alone in a room with a man is already, on its own, a vulnerable situation. There is an undeniable physical power dynamic that cannot be ignored. Even before desire enters the picture, there is risk.

That is why screening exists (well in sex work). That is why conversations happen before meetings. And that is why all relevant information and intentions should be disclosed in advance while the other person is still in their own safe space, with the freedom to say no without fear or pressure.

There should never be a dynamic of “just come over and we’ll discuss what I want.”

That is not neutral. That is coercive.

Once someone is already there; alone, vulnerable, emotionally and physically exposed... the power balance has shifted. Saying no in that moment is not simple. It is often terrifying.

Telling a horny man no can:

• Trigger feelings of rejection

• Make him insecure or defensive

• Lead to manipulation, guilt‑tripping, or boundary testing

• Or escalate into doing the thing anyway

And when someone proceeds despite hesitation, discomfort, or an already‑stated boundary, yes... that is assault.

Not only in the raw and brute sense, but in the cumulative psychological and emotional impact of micro‑aggressions. Over time, ignoring or pushing past consent wears down a person’s nervous system, trust, and sense of safety. That harm is avoidable, just asking before doing is already a huge step forward.

If something requires preparation; physical, emotional, or psychological... the provider should know beforehand. It is not fair, ethical, or consensual to surprise someone with new expectations once they are already present.

Consent cannot exist without disclosure.

And disclosure after arrival is not disclosure, it is pressure, it's ambush. Even if involuntary. 

A provider (and or any person) should never have to defend their body in real time.

Provider Consent Is Not Client Entitlement

In many mainstream and transactional interactions (including some PSE contexts), there’s an unspoken assumption:

• You paid: therefore access is implied.

This logic is toxic. Payment buys time, presence, expertise, or skill : free for all bodily access. If performative expectations are not named before a session, then the structure itself enables entitlement and harm. Consent does not expand because money is involved, it becomes more necessary, not less. Consent should never be something someone has to forcefully manage or defend in real time. When i say real time, i mean during the act. When i say disclosing before, it includes as much information as possible in texts and emails. Obviously both parties discuss these at the beginning of the booking as well, but there shouldn't be any new information when you arrive in person. 

For sex workers in particular, the stakes are even higher. When payment is involved, saying no in the moment can feel like more than just asserting a boundary, it can threaten your income. This creates coercion in real time, where boundaries are influenced by financial necessity rather than choice. The payer’s power over the payee is immediate, and the person needing the money may feel pressured to consent to something they aren’t comfortable with. It’s an awful, unequal dynamic, and it underscores why disclosure and negotiation before the encounter are absolutely essential.
👉 Under Canadian law, consent must be voluntary, ongoing, and free from coercion or pressure. Consent cannot be obtained by abusing power, threats, intimidation, or manipulation. If someone is pressured into sexual activity through power imbalances, including financial or transactional pressure, that is not legally valid consent and can be treated as sexual assault.

Why Some Spaces Feel Safer

This is also why so many women report feeling safer in kink communities, kink events, and kink‑adjacent spaces. Even when they aren’t necessarily kinky themselves.

It isn’t the activities that create safety. It’s the format of communication.

When expectations are stated, boundaries are normalized, and consent is centered from the start... with negotiation, limits, safewords, and ongoing check‑ins, people don’t have to stay alert for sudden boundary tests. They don’t have to decode intentions on the fly. That structure creates a collective environment of awareness and respect. carolinaswc.org

Not because everyone wants the same things but because everyone is expected to talk about what they want before anything happens. People know in these spaces that what ever the situation, they will not be touched without consent.

I know some of you need examples...

Consent in Action: Mini Case Studies

Scenario 1: Mainstream / “Yes Until No”
A client books a session. They assume payment equals access. Once alone, they escalate physically:

• Sticking fingers somewhere without asking, Spanking, Putting hands near the throat, hair pulling. Cumming in mouth or face without asking, etc

• Touching/ Fingering intimate areas without explicit permission

• Pushing past soft resistance (“it’s okay, I know you like it”, "You'll like it with me")

• Ignoring verbal limits (“just this once, it’s fine”)

The provider is put on the defensive. They must suddenly say no, stop the action, and manage the client’s reaction — all while processing fear, frustration, and violation. Boundaries weren’t respected in advance, so the harm is compounded. Microaggressions, comments about the body, teasing, subtle pressure, add up, creating an environment that feels unsafe and coercive, even if the client doesn’t consider it “assault.” And when we say to ask, we aren't asking to have a full sit down and make a narrated scenario of each movement... it can be a simple "can i", it can be a yes head sign cue, an eye contact of approval. 

Scenario 2: Kink / “No Until Yes”
Before the session, the client and provider negotiate limits and desires:

• “Are you okay with anal?”

• “These are my soft limits; these are hard limits.”

• “If you want to escalate, check in first.” "double tap my arm if you aren't comfortable"

During the session, the client asks before any new actions. Every touch, escalation, or experimentation is explicitly agreed upon, with words, eye contact, a nod, etc. The provider never has to defend their body. Microaggressions are minimized because the expectation of communication is built into the interaction. No surprises. No pressure. No fear. Everyone can relax and enjoy the experience fully. The more open and safe we fill within our bodies, the more hungry our bodies become for pleasure.

What if i don't know ? 
If you’re unsure, pause. Ask. Stop. Disclose. Consent isn’t complicated, it’s about talking, listening, and respecting boundaries. Being thoughtful is always better than guessing.
Not everyone has learned how to navigate consent thoughtfully and that’s okay. The important thing is being willing to stop, ask, and communicate clearly before touching or escalating anything.

Consent is a two-way street. Let the other person know: “I’m interested in trying X, but only if you’re comfortable." Small questions prevent defensive consent and show that you respect boundaries.

Conclusion

The difference between “no means no” and proactive, engaged consent is not only theoretical, it’s practical.

It’s not a barrier to intimacy. It’s part of it. Do the work beforehand. Ask. Disclose. Listen.

And what unfolds will be far richer for everyone involved.
No shouldn't be a checkpoint, if someone says no, you've already gone too far.

PS :
If you’re a good person, thank you for reading this. I hope it’s helped you reflect, learn, and elevate yourself — and to realize that making mistakes or having blind spots is part of being human. What matters is that you’re willing to notice them, adjust your behavior, and do better in the future.

If reading this made you uncomfortable, defensive, or even a little scared, take a pause. That discomfort is a sign that you’ve likely relied on pressure, ambiguity, or assumptions of access in the past. There’s work to do and it starts with recognizing the power you held, respecting boundaries, and understanding that consent happens before no.


I understand that communication about boundaries can be scary for the first time, let me guide you through what discussions about them can look like in another blog post.

lots of love and i hope to have changed your view on consent.
April